Lord, Make Me New

  Unspoken words hung heavy in the noisy room. The ladies quickly connected as we women will do and laughter-peppered banter became music to the lonely soul. But the unspoken could be seen in the dart of their eyes. Will I find a friend? Can I feel safe here? Is anyone else hurting like I am? Do I dare open up? Will they understand? Will they accept me? Can my life really be different? I’m awed at their bravery. It takes courage to show up in brokenness. I know. We gather, because we are tired of feeling alone. We are drawn together because deep inside we know there must be a way to be changed.  There is. God is waiting to answer the questions each as unique as the number of women, yet all stemming from one. Am I loved? My heart swells with hope for the hearts of these women hungry for change and I pray. Do not allow this world to mold you in its own image. Instead, be transformed from the inside out by renewing your mind. As a result, you will be able to discern what God wills and whatever God finds good, pleasing, and complete. Romans 12:2 The Voice Today I was in a black mood even though I started the day with reading His word. I easily slip back into conforming with the world. I look over my shoulder and somehow am tricked into being the person I dislike so much. I become prideful, self-centered and insecurity all wrapped together. The world rubs off on me and I have to come to God again. Messy, ugly and ready to be transformed...
From Broken to Beautiful

From Broken to Beautiful

A quiet door opened to a beautiful place recently. Deeper Waters is a restful gathering of women who love each other and love the Word. It is a place to talk about faith, friendship, marriage, motherhood, and creativity. I have been blessed and honored to become a part of this amazing group of women who want to encourage through words. I wrote a message at Deeper Waters Ministry.   I’m a scavenger. I have an unexplained urge to tuck seemingly useless things away until I find a scrap of something else that fits just right to create something new. That is why the work artist John Lopez fascinates me. He can take a pile of iron rubbish and transform it into something beautiful—welding piece to piece, until it becomes a genius work of art. God is the ultimate Artist. . . If you want to read what God taught me in brokenness, click on over to Deeper Waters to read the rest of the post. While you are there look around. It is a beautiful place to grow together. In His Delight,...
Brittle Dry – God Says, Harvest Will Come

Brittle Dry – God Says, Harvest Will Come

    It is amazing how often driving to church brings unwanted and poorly timed emotions. My heart churned as frustrated prayers begged God to bring me close to His Holiness. I arrived late for worship team warm up. When I entered the sanctuary, It is well With My Soul filled my ears and made an escape down my cheeks. You see, it is not well with my soul. Things are amiss and the Holy Spirit says we are going to deal with it. I came home from church with a pull the covers over my head kind of feeling. I was exhausted, but the afternoon glorious so I decided to walk Maggie, my dog, along the newly opened field. It was an unexpected appointment with God. October is not a pretty time in Nebraska. It holds a different beauty; one pregnant with hopeful anticipation. Miles upon miles of brittle brown fields lay ready for harvest. To the unfamiliar eye, the nondescript rows hold nothing of value. To the one who is waiting to harvest, the field is full of bounty. The farmer prepared the soil, planted seed, provided nutrients, protected from damage and watered. He has invested much. All as he waits for the proper time to harvest. Maggie searched for bugs and I searched for God to speak. The wind-pushed leaves scratched brittle against each other. I am brittle too. God speaks. This field is you. I am waiting to harvest. Maybe you are brittle dry waiting on God also. It is not an easy place to be. I get that. Do you believe you have nothing...

A Life Of Sorts

My days have been consumed with an archaeological expedition. One as close as my office closet, but as far away as distant years unearthed by layer after layer of pictures, programs and school papers. I’ve sorted a myriad of mementos from the unforgettably priceless to the “What in the world is that?”. My goal: Condense from the mountain of stuff to what captures our history in the most meaningful way.As the papers shuffle, I drift through time like a canoe loosed from its mooring. Unearthing declarations of my daughter’s second grade love and her various dreams for when she grows up – a spy, a doctor, an adventurer. I wouldn’t advise the doctor. I found a picture she drew telling a patient “I’m sorry, I can’t help you”, who, lying stricken declares, “I’m dead”. The most special are the hints of what God has placed inside her. From a young age, He has been shaping her talents and allowing her to explore them in her own way. I am watching as her focus is narrowing from a broad expansive valley between mountain ridges to the narrow pass that will carry her through the craggy peaks. I’m watching and praying. I sorted through years of my bible study notes wishing I had done more. If only I had studied them more in depth and committed them to an organized history of my journey. I relived times plagued by sadness as I recovered from the loss of the life I thought was my dream. There were times of intense struggle to surrender myself to the place God chose for me. Some...

Full Throttle

I have been going full throttle with activities almost every night for the last few weeks. Granted it was not all work. School activities were mixed with some fun things, and even new ministry opportunities. They have been good weeks. Yet, I could feel my gears grinding from overdrive down to first. I was beginning to feel like I might be destined for the crash wall around turn three. Then came Sunday. Pull it into the pit for an engine check, tire change and refueling. Worship with my family of believers today was, well, heavenly. Some Sundays are just more than others. I will take responsibility for the others not being up to par. I’m sure God never slacks off. But today, there seemed to be more of God, more of His Holy Spirit, more of our hearts humble and expectant before Him. More communion. Just as the winds blew change outside, the Spirit moved change within. Hundreds were there, but I felt one-on-one with God. Ahhh, neutral. I’ll put it park and recharge the battery. What made the difference between today and the times I may not feel so up close and personal with God? I wish it was because I was so in tune with Jesus and so obedient to God that I was rewarded with a heavy duty dose of His Spirit. But, I can’t take any of the credit. The only thing I had to offer was a heart humbled and open. God is God and He was God in a BIG way today. Thank you Lord. You are the master mechanic. I’m tuned up...

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